What the Heart Wants
by homeforthelost
Summary: Set Pre-Series. Dean and how the things he wants changes as he gets older. Chapter now up for Sam as well.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this is the updated version of the story "Want" I published not long ago. I found a few mistakes and wanted to fix them. I am also looking at writing another chapter for Sam. Let me know what you guys think please! I do welcome constructive criticism or any comments on the story.

Rating: PG-13 for Dean's language and sexual insinuations.

Summary: A look at what Dean wanted at certain points of his life. Pre-Series

Word Count: 1,700

Disclaimer: All characters belong to CW and Eric Kripke.

What the Heart Wants

Want. Dean is twenty two, he knows what it means, can't remember a time when he didn't. But how one word can encompass so much of a desperate feeling, he will never understand. It has meant different things to him at different points of his life. Dean can't help but reminisce on a few of them as he takes a shot of whiskey while watching the pool table.

Dean is four. Miss Janet, the neighbor lady with lots of cats and candy, has Dean behind the firetruck. The light from the fire is growing and the flames continue to engulf his home. She had tried to take Baby Sammy from him, but Dean wouldn't let her. Daddy had told Dean to take him, not her. So Dean held onto him and refused to give Baby Sammy to Miss Janet. Even if she smelled sweet like candy. Her orange-grey hair is close to her skull, a few strands hung limply near her face. Her white nightgown rumpled and held away from her wrinkled body by a trembling hand. Her shaking hands didn't inspire confidence in him that she could hold onto Baby Sammy. If her hands were already shaky, if Sammy squirmed like he usually does in sleep, she might drop him. Besides, Daddy had given Baby Sammy to him. Miss Janet whispered reassurances to him. After she decided that taking Baby Sammy from him wasn't going to work. She told him that his Daddy would be back soon. But Dean doesn't want Daddy right now, he can see Daddy talking to the Police Man from here. He just wants Mom. He wants his Mommy to come out from the house, her hair will be all over and in her face and maybe she'll have soot on her dress and face. But she'll come out, she'll be okay and they'll all be okay. She doesn't come out of the house though. Not even when the firefighters come out. Mom doesn't come out of the house. Not even after the neighbors have left and the flames have died down. Not even after the firetruck leaves. Dean wants his Mom. His little chest heaves and aches in a way he didn't know was possible. His breaths come in stilted bursts and he has one fist wound in Sammy's blankets as he supports him in his lap. His other hand strokes Baby Sammy's light, soft baby hair. Days go by after the fire. The Want that found its way into his chest that night only seems to burrow deeper. Staring at him with an evil smirk smugly etched across its ugly mug; as if it has marked him as its home. A home it won't leave soon, if ever.

Dean is twelve. He knows he is starting to fill out and grow more like the young man he's been forced to grow into. Dad's on a hunting trip a few hours away and left a sickly Sammy with reliable-older-brother Dean. Which is fine, Dean would rather him not be home. Then his only real worries are survival and basic needs for himself and Sammy. He can sneak off every now and again to play at the arcade three blocks away and not get bitched at for it. But Sammy is being extra whiny and a bigger pain in the ass than normal. Dean tried making him soup to help sooth his sore throat but promptly got nit-picked for it because it had green beans. Sammy adamantly refused to eat it. Dean accepted that and ate the soup instead. He was starting to get hungry anyways. Dean tried making him something else, he tried making a grilled cheese sandwich. A typical satisfying Sammy-meal. Only for it to be put on the sad excuse for a plastic plate on the nightstand because it made Sammy's throat hurt worse. So Dean tried making him some Mac'n'Cheese with some chopped up hot dog in it, but Sam had fallen asleep by the time it was done. When he woke up, he whined that it didn't taste good cold. Dean wanted Sammy to eat some damned food so he could be healthy again when Dad gets back. Sammy is losing weight. Something he didn't have a lot to lose to begin with. But now Dean can see his individual ribs poking at his skin, and can count the vertebrae up his back. Sammy isn't getting better, and he is still losing weight. Fighting to get Sammy to eat something is like trying to push a truck up a hill. In the mud. With the parking brake on. Dean puts a pot of water on the stove to boil for some butter noodles. Maybe Sammy will eat those, they would be soft on his throat and easy on his stomach. At this point, Dean just wants his Dad to come home and make sure Sammy gets better.

Dean is fifteen now. And he had definitely discovered the appealing parts of the opposite sex, or he is with Missy. Dean and Sammy moved into Pickwick Kansas. They started on the first day for once. And since the high school is one of only two for the whole county, there's a lot of new faces for even the local kids. Dean is good at slipping under the radar, has perfected it, so he settles in fine. He and Sammy are staying with their "Great Aunt Hilda" for the semester. While Dad is with a group of hunters taking down a trail of skin walkers a few hours east. If anyone asked, Dad was a military man currently on tour. It was easy enough to slip into small town life, know how to answer the questions and it was simple. Missy was simple, easy on the eyes, long legs, nice rack and willing. Dean hadn't been there but a week before Missy was meeting him behind the bleachers for some... extra curricular activity. She promised him more if he would take her to the barn dance tomorrow. Want curled in his belly, warm and aching.

Dean is sixteen. The Impala certainly is a beauty to behold. And a _good_ chick magnet. Her engine is always eager for a spin, purring out her eagerness with the loud rumble of her carburetor. She handles beautifully if you actually know how to drive. Dean is a fast learner and knows almost all her tricks. How to brake without antilock brakes, because come on, she's a classic, who needs those stupid things anyway? He knows just when to let out the clutch to peel out or to transition between gears smoothly. Dean can't wait to be left with her, eventually, Dad will have to get another vehicle, Dean will either get the new one, or he will get the Impala. He really hopes for the latter. Her big 327 cubic inch engine calls to him and her carburetor purrs out enticing promises of speed and fun. Even the smell of her interior and her fumes is intoxicating. All Dean wants is her keys in his pocket.

Dean is eighteen now, Dad takes him on more hunts than not. Sam has been old enough to stay behind by himself for awhile now. Thank God, because Sammy and Dad have started arguing over the most stupid shit. Dad orders Sammy to do something, Sammy questions it. And Sammy spends more time on school than he does on hunts. He is always, _always_ , working on schoolwork. Dad tells Sammy to study a ritual, they argue. Sam spends as little time as possible on it and returns to doing schoolwork. Dean has taken to using his fake ID to get out of the house and away from the increasing fights. Is it _really_ that hard for Sammy to do the same thing Dean has been doing practically his whole life? To do as he's told? It's not like all that schoolwork is going to pay off. All they're ever going to do is hunt. Even after they find and kill the Demon that killed Mom, they'll probably still pick up hunts and research. They've never done anything else. So why does Sam have to dig his stupid, stubborn heels in over every fucking thing. It's like the kid looks for opportunities to make them all miserable. Dean just wants Sammy to get over himself and accept that this is all they will ever do in their life. Dead did, Sammy will eventually. You'd think with Sammy being as smart as he is and all, he would have picked up on it faster, would just do as he is told, but no. Sammy has to turn everything into a damned fight with Dad. He has even started squabbling with Dean. Dean just wants Sammy to do as he is told, to make life easier. None of them want it this way. If they would just stop fighting, Dean could stop pretending that he doesn't care if they fight, that they're actively tearing and ripping at the foundation of the family unit. But they don't. Dean just wants them to get along.

Dean is twenty-two. More often than not, he wakes in a stranger's bed with a girl he vaguely remember from the night before. He almost always wakes with the hangover-from-hell. But that doesn't matter, because this is what he wants. He doesn't want Sammy to call him up from stupid Stanford and tell Dean that he was wrong, college life wasn't for him. To call him up and asked to be picked up. The ache in his chest his for fine whiskey, a good game, and frisky women; it's not for the family unit that has been destroyed, nope, not at all.


	2. Chapter 2: Isn't Always What It Gets

Isn't Always What it Gets

Sam rests his forearms against the grimy, no-name motel's sink. The shower is on, the water is already cold so it makes no difference. Hot water never lasts longer than ten minutes in motels like this one. Sam knows well from experience. Sam tries to think about anything but the scene they left behind a day? Three days ago? His chest aches, his eyes sting and he numbly swipes his face to displace the tears he knows are forming. He remembers when he thought he knew what to want something meant.

Sam just wants Daddy to be happy

Sam is barely two, barely toddling along and keeping his balance. There's a pretty yellow butterfly that he is trying to follow. It flits to one side from one puddle to another and Sam stumbles to keep his balance and ends up falling down. His knee and bottom smart from the fall and he frowns at the mud that is seeping, cold and wet, into his favorite jeans. His bottom lip trembles as the leg of the jeans with the little, yellow, markered in smile face gets muddy water on it and starts fading. He looks up expectedly and slightly panicked, looking for Dean except Dean's not there with a quick reassurance and a big smile to help him up.

Dean's is always close by when Sammy falls, but not this time. This time Dean's nowhere nearby. Sammy starts to panic but then he sees his Dad in front of a big yellow bus. And Dean's stepping onto the big yellow bus with lots of loud kids. Sam had seen it coming before chasing the butterfly but hadn't thought much of the big, loud, smelly bus coming towards Dad and Dean. But Dean is getting on the big, loud smelly bus, Sammy's brows furrow in confusion. Dean always stays with him. Always. Sometimes Dad goes away for long time, some so long that he doesn't get back in time to eat with them. Dean can't go. What if Dad leaves too?

Sammy's lip trembles more and tears start flowing quickly, leaving his face red and tear streaked. Tears drip down his face even as Dad comes over and helps Sam up, dusts the dirt off his knees and lets go of Sam's hand. Sammy tries to hold Dad's hand, but Dad's already moving back to their dusty motel. Sammy's knee still smart, his jeans still are wet and mud stained, making Sammy walk a little awkwardly because it hurts and his pants are sticking to his leg and making him cold. Dean would have held his hand and walked him back inside. And Mr. Smiley is fading into the brown stain on his pants leg. Sammy stumbles and almost falls again when he sees Mr. Smiley is almost gone. Dean had drawn it on their way into town when Sammy got tired of counting blue cars. It was a race to see who could count more cars in a certain color. Sammy's were blue this time, Dean's were red. But in his haste to catch up with Dad to make him save Mr. Smiley, and his inability to see due to the tears that are still running down his face, he fails to notice Dad waiting for him at the door.

He stumbles into Dad's legs and wraps his arms around Dad's leg, his jeans aren't wet and muddy, they are warm and his fingers find the hole in the back of the leg and picks at it. Dad crouches down next to Sammy when he notices his distress. "What'sa matter Sam?" He gruffly asked, confusion coloring his tone and making it lighter, as he gently strokes his son soft chocolate brown hair. "I-I fell in a puddle an' Mr. Smiley is dissdepearing now!" Sammy choked out between his tears and attempts not to cry. Dad didn't like it when Sammy cried. Dad just stroked his hair for a minute before picking him up and taking him inside. He set Sammy on the counter. "How about a sandwich? You hungry Sammy?" John completely disregarded Sammy's tears and Mr. Smiley. Dean would have fixed the smile face on his jeans, washed it up with some water from the sink maybe. But he would have fixed it. Sammy sniffed, trying to stop crying, just like Dean taught him to when Dad was around. Dean once told him that Dad didn't like it when Sammy cried because he didn't know how to fix it. That was only a big brother's job. The thought just made Sammy want Dean more, Dean would wipe his tears with a smile and a joke, would get him dry clothes, wash his jeans and fix Mr. Smiley. But Dean isn't here. It's just Dad. And Sammy doesn't want to upset Dad. He wants Dad to be happy. So he sniffles quietly while Dad makes him grilled cheese. By the time Dad is adding the cheese, Sammy's tears have mostly stopped. Dean will come back and fix Mr. Smiley. Sammy wipes away the remnants of the sticky tears of betrayal in time for Dad to hand him his sandwich. Sammy eats it, even though he hates extra cheesy sandwiches. He stops crying too, because that would just make Dad sad. And Sammy just wants Dad to be happy. He wants Dad to be proud he doesn't cry. Dean would make sure Dad is happy.

Sam is twelve, in middle school in another no-name town, staying for a month. Dad was healing up from a Wendigo case two weeks previous. He had come back victorious, but wounded pretty bad, even by their standards. A grand total of 40 stitches, a broken leg, bruised back, bruised kidney, and a concussion were holding them back from the next hunt. As soon as they had gotten Dad out of the hospital they had booked it here, Pineville, Tennessee. Sam had finally made it through the first week and a half of school and was nervously waiting for his test results. He bounced his knee, anxiety making him more restless than normal as he covertly watched the teacher give out tests. Ms. Howard flashed him a smile when she finally handed it back to him. He accepted it with shaky hands. He wiped his palms on his pants before flipping it over. He felt his heart stop at the initial sight of a red pen, fearing the worst. His heart continued its plummet to his stomach and he stopped breathing. And then it registered what he was seeing. 25/25 Great Work Samuel! Was written boldly in red. Relief made his heart thump hard before settling into its normal pace, suddenly he could breathe again. A smile stretched across his face, as he felt pride surge up through his chest. Sam may not be the best in a physical fight, especially being so small, even for his age group. But this research paper grade proved that he could research. Dad may not be proud of his physical abilities, because to be honest, he wasn't good. Not like Dean. But maybe he could make up for it with his research. Maybe Dad could be proud of him for his research abilities. Maybe that would be enough to make Dad proud of him. That's all he wants right now.

Dad isn't proud of him. No matter what he tries it's never enough for Dad. No matter what grades he gets, or how hard he works out, or prepares for hunts, something always happens. Sam can't make Dad proud of him. But maybe, maybe he can make Dean proud of him. Dean's face lights up when Sam shows him the grade. "Hey! I knew you could do it Geekboy!" A hand is clapped on Sam's shoulder as Dean looks over the paper, he flashes Sam a sincere proud-of-my-kid-brother-look at him. Maybe he can do this. Maybe Dad can't be proud of him like he wants. But maybe Dean can be proud of him. No matter what he has to do, if it's research so be it. He will do it and do it well, so long as it makes Dean proud of him.

Wants to make life better for Dean

Sam's sixteen now. Dean is recovering from a violent spirit. The hunt went sour when they burned the bones of Johnny McNeals, only to find it was the wrong set of bones. Something had gone wrong. Dean was tossed into a bookshelf and knocked unconscious before Sam could locate the thing holding Johnny back. Ironically enough, it was the family Bible. As soon as it caught, the salt and kerosene sparking on old musty pages, Johnny went out with a shriek, leaving a bloody, bruised big brother behind. Dean is still sore, it's only been three days. But Dad left them already for the next hunt. So Sam picked up a job to help Dean pay for the room. Dean shouldn't have to work and hustle pool at night to support them. Sam can do something. Dean shouldn't have to take care of it all. Dean shouldn't have to put up with John's bullshit. There was nothing any of them could have done to avoid Dean getting hurt. There was no way for them to have known that the Bible was tying the ghost down. It wasn't fair on Dean. This life, Dad, hunting, anything. It wasn't fair. So Sam will study hard, maybe become a Doctor, or a Lawyer. Dean won't get himself out, no matter how much he secretly wants to. So maybe if Sam can help him, maybe it's to keep him alive, or maybe out of trouble, or maybe he can send him money, send him cold hard cash so he doesn't have to work so hard. Sam just wants Dean to have a better life, to get Dean OUT of this life. If that means Sam has to leave his family, then so be it. He wants Dean to be safe and happy. Dean has done the best to make sure Sam gets what he wants, he figures he needs to try to get what Dean wants.

But now that he's gone to college, cut his ties with John, and unintentionally with Dean, he knows it's not that simple or easy. He doesn't know what he wants. He wants Jess to not have died. He wants his Dad to not be missing. He wants the worry lines to disappear from Dean's face. He can't have any of that though. Maybe, piece by piece, he can get there. Help Dean. Find Dad. Fix something. But for now, all he wants is Dean.


End file.
